VEE stands for Validation by Educational Experience. It's a bunch more stuff I'll have to pass before I get my ASA designation. There are three rigors necessary: applied statistics, economics and finance. And I have none of the three.
My Allstate contact suggested that I look into banging them out during this time. But man, it won't be cheap. Though I won't have to re-enroll in college, I'll likely have to take an on-line course. The three combined look to cost two grand. Yikes! Might I be able to take the exam and just study on my own? Not sure. Maybe a course would be better for me anyway.
I guess that employers really don't care too much about VEE; they're only interested in SOA exams and experience. So I should concentrate on landing that experience part first.
Gotta run to have lunch with Galen, an old semi-friend from high school who's very hard not to like. But I wanted to get this down before I split.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Hurdles
My difficulties have been taking a toll on Margie. Today, she got to see me get in a panic, curse a little, and say nasty things to myself as I was frustrated over having to compete for a small number of jobs against people half my age and with an internship's worth of experience (compared to none for me). She's been going through difficulties as well and says that she needs me to be strong. And right now, I do feel strong. But that was after a nap. Most every day, according to her, I've had less-than-stellar moments that have hurt her.
I certainly don't want to hurt her. But I feel powerless when these moments come on. Am I supposed to hide them from her? I mean, if I can't share my frustration with her, with whom can I share them? This board?
For the record: I've never laid an angry hand on her and never will. Not my style. My life record says the opposite; I'll go as passive as possible when issues arise.
I know better than to hurt those that I truly love. Of course, I have been hurting her. But I don't know exactly how to control myself at those times. (I bet spousal abusers say the same thing.)
Right now, I think about the punching body bag in my parents' basement, and how it's mine, and how I have absolutely nowhere to put it. That would be a great place to take out my negative energy. My basement's great and could be my sanctuary, but why can't it provide for me here?
Am I supposed to blame my Dad for these issues? My mom? Society? Steve Carlson? My brother? Jim Streczek (sp)? Pam and Zim? The principals at my last two jobs? I'm flummoxed. I need more help. The acupuncture may be working. At the very least, it represents my desire to connect with my inner self. The therapy may also be working, though I don't see how a better relationship with my father will help much, especially since he already acknowledged his unawareness of my social crises of youth. Yoga? Exercise? Intimacy? Grass? Meditation? Booze?
Someone's holding me back. It's me, isn't it?
I certainly don't want to hurt her. But I feel powerless when these moments come on. Am I supposed to hide them from her? I mean, if I can't share my frustration with her, with whom can I share them? This board?
For the record: I've never laid an angry hand on her and never will. Not my style. My life record says the opposite; I'll go as passive as possible when issues arise.
I know better than to hurt those that I truly love. Of course, I have been hurting her. But I don't know exactly how to control myself at those times. (I bet spousal abusers say the same thing.)
Right now, I think about the punching body bag in my parents' basement, and how it's mine, and how I have absolutely nowhere to put it. That would be a great place to take out my negative energy. My basement's great and could be my sanctuary, but why can't it provide for me here?
Am I supposed to blame my Dad for these issues? My mom? Society? Steve Carlson? My brother? Jim Streczek (sp)? Pam and Zim? The principals at my last two jobs? I'm flummoxed. I need more help. The acupuncture may be working. At the very least, it represents my desire to connect with my inner self. The therapy may also be working, though I don't see how a better relationship with my father will help much, especially since he already acknowledged his unawareness of my social crises of youth. Yoga? Exercise? Intimacy? Grass? Meditation? Booze?
Someone's holding me back. It's me, isn't it?
Something else to remember
I think that a big hurdle I have in my job pursuits is that companies will think that I have a higher salary expectation. While I certainly wouldn't turn down more money, it's not as if I have to be making a lot. What I think I'll say that I'd like a salary commensurate with my experience. I don't expect to make any more than a recent college graduate with 2-3 exams completed and little experience in the field.
Many things in my head from this search, most of them unpleasant. I'm rather panic-stricken.
Many things in my head from this search, most of them unpleasant. I'm rather panic-stricken.
Pavement hitting, part 1
I have a daunting task in front of me, and that is to find a job in the actuarial field. I've actually had this task for a while, but I didn't attack the goal very strongly while studying for the MLC exam. Now, while I have to wait to find out the results, I must job-search.
There are a couple of actuarial recruiters out there. One letter from DW Simpson discouraged me enough to get behind on my studying: I shouldn't have had 11 months between my 2nd and 3rd exams, but what they told me - unless you're willing to live anywhere in the country, you don't have a shot - slowed down my pursuit. Only a nice visit to the actuarial conference picked up my spirits.
A few interviews later, I'm still worried. But what choice do I have? Margie's been feeling the pressure of picking up lots of overtime and knowing that she MUST continue to work. She'd like for me to start tutoring again, but I can only get those gigs when she's at home, and I don't want to lose quality time with her. It would be nice if I could pick up a couple of local students, meet them right after school, and still be able to pick up Margie at the train station around 5:30. But I had no success getting local kids when I put up lots of posters. Why would I be more successful now?
So it's Thanksgiving week. A short work week. I should use this day and the next to prepare for my onslaught.
About six months, I made up a spreadsheet of contacts from local insurance companies and consulting firms. The names I acquired from the Society of Actuaries' directory. I sent each contact (about 200 of them!) a somewhat-personalized e-mail, explaining my situation and asking for advice. About 10-15% of them wrote back, most with helpful insight. It got me a couple of interviews, but the phone-screening with Coventry didn't go well (wish I hadn't called when I did) and the Allstate interview, despite feeling good, wasn't good enough. (I've since had a phone screening with CVS Caremark, which didn't lead to anything more.)
What I think I should do at this point is update that letter and send it to different contacts in the companies that didn't write me back. For most of those companies, there wasn't an obvious single point of contact, so why not try another one? For companies that did contact me back, write them again, let them know that I took the third exam, and ask if there are any open slots now. This is what I'll do first, as most of those original contacts will likely have nothing and will forward my information to their HR departments.
The second step is to contact all of the HR departments that have yet to get my information.
The third step is to immerse myself in a LinkedIN group that a member of the other recruiter (Ezra Penland) created: The Entry-Level Actuary. I fear that "immersing" myself won't take long in such a group. Sally Ezra said that supply outweighs demand for entry-level positions. This scares me.
But then again, imagine if I were a college grad with two exams under my belt. How could I make myself stand-out against the others? Perhaps by having seven years of high school math teaching under my belt. Or by working at a newspaper for five years and a radio station for two. Maybe I wouldn't be willing to trade-off 18 years of my life for that experience, but I'm hoping that one company will see it as a good trade-off and give me the chance to work with them.
Those are good places to start. I still need to find the other contacts - wish I had just written down alternate contacts when I was originally making the list - and HR department contact info. The smaller consultants firms, which would likely be more open to my diverse background, lack HR departments.
One contact from my initial push suggested that I call directly, as e-mails are easily ignorable. I need to find the courage to call. Cold-calling is very hard to do. Perhaps I could e-mail everyone and let them know that I look forward to hearing from them and will follow-up with them shortly. That might pressure them to e-mail me back or prepare them to accept a phone call of mine. I like this idea. It won't feel so intrusive. It's opening the screen door, knocking, and asking to be let in, rather than opening both doors and meeting them in their kitchen.
Funny how nearly every contact before before had good things to say about my background and said that two exams should be enough but three wouldn't hurt.
When I was studying for the MLC exam, I had confidence that, if I put in the hours, I would pass the exam. Now I should have the confidence that, if I put in the hours, I will make the contacts and get the interviews, and if I have enough interviews, I will eventually land a job. Or at least an internship. Which poses one more question. How and when should I make my "I'll be happy to intern with your company" pitch? I think that actuarial intern get paid, but likely don't receive benefits. (No problem for me, thanks to being married.) Hm. I should consider that in wording my e-mail. Better get to that.
Bowling note: for the first time in my life, I was too rev-heavy. Fortunately, it was likely because the lanes were pretty dry, but I had one hell of a time staying in the 1-3 pocket as my curve ball kept curving well past it. I still had a couple of 190 games, but it was pretty frustrating. I'm getting some nice rotation with my full follow-through and don't want to stray from it.
There are a couple of actuarial recruiters out there. One letter from DW Simpson discouraged me enough to get behind on my studying: I shouldn't have had 11 months between my 2nd and 3rd exams, but what they told me - unless you're willing to live anywhere in the country, you don't have a shot - slowed down my pursuit. Only a nice visit to the actuarial conference picked up my spirits.
A few interviews later, I'm still worried. But what choice do I have? Margie's been feeling the pressure of picking up lots of overtime and knowing that she MUST continue to work. She'd like for me to start tutoring again, but I can only get those gigs when she's at home, and I don't want to lose quality time with her. It would be nice if I could pick up a couple of local students, meet them right after school, and still be able to pick up Margie at the train station around 5:30. But I had no success getting local kids when I put up lots of posters. Why would I be more successful now?
So it's Thanksgiving week. A short work week. I should use this day and the next to prepare for my onslaught.
About six months, I made up a spreadsheet of contacts from local insurance companies and consulting firms. The names I acquired from the Society of Actuaries' directory. I sent each contact (about 200 of them!) a somewhat-personalized e-mail, explaining my situation and asking for advice. About 10-15% of them wrote back, most with helpful insight. It got me a couple of interviews, but the phone-screening with Coventry didn't go well (wish I hadn't called when I did) and the Allstate interview, despite feeling good, wasn't good enough. (I've since had a phone screening with CVS Caremark, which didn't lead to anything more.)
What I think I should do at this point is update that letter and send it to different contacts in the companies that didn't write me back. For most of those companies, there wasn't an obvious single point of contact, so why not try another one? For companies that did contact me back, write them again, let them know that I took the third exam, and ask if there are any open slots now. This is what I'll do first, as most of those original contacts will likely have nothing and will forward my information to their HR departments.
The second step is to contact all of the HR departments that have yet to get my information.
The third step is to immerse myself in a LinkedIN group that a member of the other recruiter (Ezra Penland) created: The Entry-Level Actuary. I fear that "immersing" myself won't take long in such a group. Sally Ezra said that supply outweighs demand for entry-level positions. This scares me.
But then again, imagine if I were a college grad with two exams under my belt. How could I make myself stand-out against the others? Perhaps by having seven years of high school math teaching under my belt. Or by working at a newspaper for five years and a radio station for two. Maybe I wouldn't be willing to trade-off 18 years of my life for that experience, but I'm hoping that one company will see it as a good trade-off and give me the chance to work with them.
Those are good places to start. I still need to find the other contacts - wish I had just written down alternate contacts when I was originally making the list - and HR department contact info. The smaller consultants firms, which would likely be more open to my diverse background, lack HR departments.
One contact from my initial push suggested that I call directly, as e-mails are easily ignorable. I need to find the courage to call. Cold-calling is very hard to do. Perhaps I could e-mail everyone and let them know that I look forward to hearing from them and will follow-up with them shortly. That might pressure them to e-mail me back or prepare them to accept a phone call of mine. I like this idea. It won't feel so intrusive. It's opening the screen door, knocking, and asking to be let in, rather than opening both doors and meeting them in their kitchen.
Funny how nearly every contact before before had good things to say about my background and said that two exams should be enough but three wouldn't hurt.
When I was studying for the MLC exam, I had confidence that, if I put in the hours, I would pass the exam. Now I should have the confidence that, if I put in the hours, I will make the contacts and get the interviews, and if I have enough interviews, I will eventually land a job. Or at least an internship. Which poses one more question. How and when should I make my "I'll be happy to intern with your company" pitch? I think that actuarial intern get paid, but likely don't receive benefits. (No problem for me, thanks to being married.) Hm. I should consider that in wording my e-mail. Better get to that.
Bowling note: for the first time in my life, I was too rev-heavy. Fortunately, it was likely because the lanes were pretty dry, but I had one hell of a time staying in the 1-3 pocket as my curve ball kept curving well past it. I still had a couple of 190 games, but it was pretty frustrating. I'm getting some nice rotation with my full follow-through and don't want to stray from it.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Music
I haven't posted any YouTube songs in three months, so I'll get on that soon. As it turns out, even if I'm not getting any positive feedback on YouTube, I'm good enough to get positive feedback when performing live.
We went to an open mike in Addison Thursday night. It was not a standing-room only crowd, as the bartender on Monday informed me, but it was still a pretty good crowd that paid good attention to the performers, depending on how well-received they were. I went first, once I saw that no one else would want to do it. Paying my dues, in a way. During my first song, a group of six people in the back got up and left. I did not take it as a bad thing, as they were likely going to leave anyway or wanting a quieter place. No one left, and I got good applause on everything I did. In fact, I got three final ovations from the crowd. One when I was done, one started by Roland the host, and one started by another performer who could sing opera as I was leaving.
I performed six songs: "Solisbury Hill" by Peter Gabriel, "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" by Pearl Jam, "Drive" by Incubus, "This Guy's in Love with You" by Herb Alpert, "America" by Simon & Garfunkel, and "Penny Lane" by the Beatles. There were a few humorous moments interspersed, such as when I guzzled my beer during the two pregnant pauses on the Bacharach tune.
I can't say that this particular open mike is the one for which I've been searching, but it's the best I've found so far. Oddly enough, another performer told me that a great one is in Batavia. This would've been great during the 15 years that I called Batavia my home, but now I'm 45 minutes away. Also, it's once a month and took place the very next night. I wasn't about to subject Margie to yet another night of hanging out at a bar and watching my and others play while using up all of her vacation time, but maybe next month I'll give it a go.
We went to an open mike in Addison Thursday night. It was not a standing-room only crowd, as the bartender on Monday informed me, but it was still a pretty good crowd that paid good attention to the performers, depending on how well-received they were. I went first, once I saw that no one else would want to do it. Paying my dues, in a way. During my first song, a group of six people in the back got up and left. I did not take it as a bad thing, as they were likely going to leave anyway or wanting a quieter place. No one left, and I got good applause on everything I did. In fact, I got three final ovations from the crowd. One when I was done, one started by Roland the host, and one started by another performer who could sing opera as I was leaving.
I performed six songs: "Solisbury Hill" by Peter Gabriel, "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" by Pearl Jam, "Drive" by Incubus, "This Guy's in Love with You" by Herb Alpert, "America" by Simon & Garfunkel, and "Penny Lane" by the Beatles. There were a few humorous moments interspersed, such as when I guzzled my beer during the two pregnant pauses on the Bacharach tune.
I can't say that this particular open mike is the one for which I've been searching, but it's the best I've found so far. Oddly enough, another performer told me that a great one is in Batavia. This would've been great during the 15 years that I called Batavia my home, but now I'm 45 minutes away. Also, it's once a month and took place the very next night. I wasn't about to subject Margie to yet another night of hanging out at a bar and watching my and others play while using up all of her vacation time, but maybe next month I'll give it a go.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
New high score(s)
It had been a while since I broke 200 in a bowling game. So it wasn't likely to happen today when Margie and I went to the lanes.
The first three games were not looking good, as I couldn't seem to find any consistency with my strike ball, and I've struggling with picking up spares lately. I thought I found a solution by letting the ball go late and letting it sail a bit before hitting the lane, but the good results didn't last long. My third game was a 126 and was more miserable than that. But I didn't want to end on such a thud, so I asked Margie if she could bowl two more games and she happily accepted.
With the first ball, I let my follow-through go all the way, and I liked the way it felt and thought that it probably looked good to lookers-on, of which there weren't any, but still. And it seemed to really helped. So I kept it up for my final two games.
That fourth game was a 225, six pins over my previous high score. I had seven strikes in my first nine frames, leaving an open frame that I swore would be converted with what I thought was a perfect shot. (Still no open-frame-free game to my name.) Going into the tenth, I knew that I had a shot at a new high score, but I had to mark, and I completely missed the pocket on the first ball, only knocking down three pins to the right. My second shot was aimed for the 1-3 but slid a little to the 1-2, which is where it should have gone anyway. A spare. I finished with a strike, my eighth of the game, and a new high score.
The next game, I opened with six consecutive strikes. The first half of a perfect score! (Just like my ACT long, long ago.) So I bowled seven strikes in a row. My prior record was five. Each of the shots felt perfect; they all nailed the pocket, and if an occasional ball went Brooklyn, the pin action was superb. My first-non-strike looked as good as any of them, but I left a standing ten-pin, the conversion of which I just missed. I should just start aiming for the six pin for such shots, as I'm tending to throw it in the gutter on ten-pin attempts.
There was only one more strike in the game, but I made the spare in the ninth, and man, what I wouldn't give to have another crack at the standing seven-pin in the tenth. If I had made it, I likely would have broken Digger's high score of 233. I didn't even know what my final score was until I looked, and wouldn't you know it, I bowled another 225. Consistency, eh? There were only seven strikes in the last game, but I never left more than one pin standing. Once I learn to convert those one-pin spares with regularity, I could be a pretty damn good bowler.
Things to remember Dave: ease your stutter-step, as it doesn't need to be so extreme, and continue your follow-through, ending with your hand and arm pointing almost upward, rather than in front of you. I noticed that I'd hold my thumb a little out of the hole, instead of having it all the way in. Don't know if that's a good idea or not.
Margie and I found a nice place close by that supposedly has great open mikes twice a month. We're going to it tonight, and I hope it's the kind of open mike I've yet to find in the Chicago suburbs. If not, maybe I'll start my own. Better meet some fellow musicians first. I don't think Digger singing "Best of My Love" will be enough.
The first three games were not looking good, as I couldn't seem to find any consistency with my strike ball, and I've struggling with picking up spares lately. I thought I found a solution by letting the ball go late and letting it sail a bit before hitting the lane, but the good results didn't last long. My third game was a 126 and was more miserable than that. But I didn't want to end on such a thud, so I asked Margie if she could bowl two more games and she happily accepted.
With the first ball, I let my follow-through go all the way, and I liked the way it felt and thought that it probably looked good to lookers-on, of which there weren't any, but still. And it seemed to really helped. So I kept it up for my final two games.
That fourth game was a 225, six pins over my previous high score. I had seven strikes in my first nine frames, leaving an open frame that I swore would be converted with what I thought was a perfect shot. (Still no open-frame-free game to my name.) Going into the tenth, I knew that I had a shot at a new high score, but I had to mark, and I completely missed the pocket on the first ball, only knocking down three pins to the right. My second shot was aimed for the 1-3 but slid a little to the 1-2, which is where it should have gone anyway. A spare. I finished with a strike, my eighth of the game, and a new high score.
The next game, I opened with six consecutive strikes. The first half of a perfect score! (Just like my ACT long, long ago.) So I bowled seven strikes in a row. My prior record was five. Each of the shots felt perfect; they all nailed the pocket, and if an occasional ball went Brooklyn, the pin action was superb. My first-non-strike looked as good as any of them, but I left a standing ten-pin, the conversion of which I just missed. I should just start aiming for the six pin for such shots, as I'm tending to throw it in the gutter on ten-pin attempts.
There was only one more strike in the game, but I made the spare in the ninth, and man, what I wouldn't give to have another crack at the standing seven-pin in the tenth. If I had made it, I likely would have broken Digger's high score of 233. I didn't even know what my final score was until I looked, and wouldn't you know it, I bowled another 225. Consistency, eh? There were only seven strikes in the last game, but I never left more than one pin standing. Once I learn to convert those one-pin spares with regularity, I could be a pretty damn good bowler.
Things to remember Dave: ease your stutter-step, as it doesn't need to be so extreme, and continue your follow-through, ending with your hand and arm pointing almost upward, rather than in front of you. I noticed that I'd hold my thumb a little out of the hole, instead of having it all the way in. Don't know if that's a good idea or not.
Margie and I found a nice place close by that supposedly has great open mikes twice a month. We're going to it tonight, and I hope it's the kind of open mike I've yet to find in the Chicago suburbs. If not, maybe I'll start my own. Better meet some fellow musicians first. I don't think Digger singing "Best of My Love" will be enough.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
No one particular thing to write today, but Margie's watching a show that's just okay and I'm listening to the radio post-game show of the Bears' win, and playing pool isn't grabbing me, so I'm here.
I'm having another acupuncture appointment tomorrow. Not sure if the first one worked, but this one can target anything I want. Depression? Anxiety? Weight loss? Tinnitus? Maybe self-esteem is one. I'm getting more of that, but I could always use more.
My good friend Glenn teaches in Tennessee, but he's currently not teaching and he's not sure why. He's been out of work for 2-3 weeks now, and no one's telling him anything. I can understand our society wanting to protect our children, but don't they realize that a student can make up a story, in order to ruin the life of a teacher he/she hates? Not only do I want to stay away from teaching in this country right now, but I fear our country's future if we continue to treat teachers with such derision.
So many people think that teaching is an easy job. To them I say the following: you do it. Good luck; you'll need a lot of it.
No one can say what they'd do in an inexperienced stressful situation. Yet so many members of sports media lambasted Joe Paterno and everyone else involved with Penn State's tragedy, as if they never make mistakes.
I'd type more but Margie's done with her TV show. Hey honey!
I'm having another acupuncture appointment tomorrow. Not sure if the first one worked, but this one can target anything I want. Depression? Anxiety? Weight loss? Tinnitus? Maybe self-esteem is one. I'm getting more of that, but I could always use more.
My good friend Glenn teaches in Tennessee, but he's currently not teaching and he's not sure why. He's been out of work for 2-3 weeks now, and no one's telling him anything. I can understand our society wanting to protect our children, but don't they realize that a student can make up a story, in order to ruin the life of a teacher he/she hates? Not only do I want to stay away from teaching in this country right now, but I fear our country's future if we continue to treat teachers with such derision.
So many people think that teaching is an easy job. To them I say the following: you do it. Good luck; you'll need a lot of it.
No one can say what they'd do in an inexperienced stressful situation. Yet so many members of sports media lambasted Joe Paterno and everyone else involved with Penn State's tragedy, as if they never make mistakes.
I'd type more but Margie's done with her TV show. Hey honey!
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Good feelings
Weird for me to write this now, somewhat cloudy the morning after too much drink last night, but I'm feeling very good about myself.
True, I still have several personal matters that are weighing on me, but I'm beginning to find the confidence that'll get me through some of that difficulty. Or at least I'm starting to see the light coming from the other side. It'll take some work to get there, but if I know that the work will pay off, I'll strap on the work boots.
The actuarial exam was two days ago. My studying regiment for this exam was not followed as well as for the prior exam, and this one covered more difficult material. And once again, I had no live person to help me with my studies. Because of my depression and inability to focus, I was not on pace on pass the thing. Three weeks ago, I finally felt the urgency of the moment and went after my goal with full force, even though I didn't think I had a prayer of achieving a passing grade.
It's not crucial that an actuarial candidate pass every exam on the first try; in fact, you're expected to fail at some point. But the fallback to failing the MLC exam on this particular day would be more painful, as the scope of the exam would be changing and the new-fangled exam wouldn't be given again for another six months.
When I was in the exam room in anticipation of the clock to get to 8:30, two guys were sitting behind me, and one discussed how he never passes an exam on the first try... yet he works at Towers Watson, one of the big firms in the area. I should be able to find a job in this market. Sure, it'll be harder because I'm 40 and companies will see me as having 18 years' less time to work for them, so I'll need to remind them that I'm more sure of myself and my desire to stay at one company over others fresh out of school and overly excited about life experiences. Perhaps I can equate it to dating, where a younger man wishes to date many different women, whereas a more mature man wishes to settle down.
And I'm not saying that it'll be "fun" per se, but the task of finding a job in the field doesn't seem overly daunting to me now. While studying the last three weeks, I told myself not to worry about specifics involving my pursuit of a passing grade. Just put in the hours, Dave. That's all you need to do now. Put in the hours of studying. I can take that tack regarding a job pursuit. Put in the hours and it'll work out fine. Almost think of it as grunt work but with a big pay-off. And If I get an interview that doesn't get me a job, it's not one more place that never hire me, it's one more attempt, putting me in a better position to be successful on the next one.
For the record, if I had to guess, I'd say that I didn't pass. But I know I'm at least close to the passing mark, and certainly a lot closer than I anticipated even a week ago.
I only took one practice exam and scored 17 out of 30. That would be just short of passing. I got pretty darn lucky of some of my guesses in that exam. For the real one, I definitely got 12-14 of them right and was able to make some educated guesses from a few of the others. I may need some lucky guesses to get me up to the passing score, which is hopefully 18 but may be 19.
Instead of watching X-Factor with Margie, who needs to watch it for her job, I went to an open mike at the Irish bar in Downers Grove last night. Apart from this small Polish coffee house in Wood Dale and their sparsely-attended open mike - and by sparsely, I mean that no one else would be there most of the time - I have yet to play at an open mike since moving back from Virginia. I would regularly attended one in Old Town Alexandria and both of us would enjoy spending Thursday nights there. Why it's been so hard to find a successful open mike in the suburbs of America's third largest city is a mystery to me.
It went okay, I suppose. I drank two fingers' worth of a single-malt scotch between a beer and a cider and it hit me a little stronger than anticipated. My singing wasn't great, but my slightly-inebriated self didn't think it was that bad. No one walked out in defiance or appeared to snicker or pander, so hey. "Lightning Crashes" wasn't too painful, though my vocal work was sloppy with REM's "It's the End of the World as We Know It." My version over "Overkill" didn't kill but wasn't overdone either. My second song, after David Gray's "A Clean Pair of Eyes," was "Killing Me Softly," and I did it because a 24 year-old girl next to me at the bar asked if I would accompany her on it. I offered Mary and Scott my song list and asked if they wanted to hear anything from it, you see. I was looking for a little inspiration. She had a pretty good voice and struggled to sing it differently than Lauren Hill and the Fugees, but she was also forgiving of the two mistakes I made while playing, confusing the verse chords with the chorus chords. Real sloppy on my end, but then again, I had a generous pour of Macallan in me. The two of them went to Hinsdale South, where they knew a fellow ex-teacher from my last teaching job. She gave me business cards from her new hair salon, saying that she does a great job with mens' haircuts and lets her customers drink beer. Hm. Freshly-cut hair in my can of Miller Lite? Not so appealing this cloud-dissipating morning.
Not that I plan on becoming great friends with them, nice as they are. I'm a whole generation older than them. But this morning, unlike some mornings, I'm glad I'm not in a younger generation. That 4 in front of my age has been giving me issues. But I'm very happy to be settled with Margie, and I can stay that I'm still youthful but have experiences and wisdom that trump anything the Gen Y'ers, or Millenials, or whatever the heck they call themselves, possess.
When I was a little over 30, a 25 year-old at a DC networking event was touting her book, "The Quarter-Life Crisis." It likely sold well, or well enough for a youngin' that hasn't experienced much and is getting her first taste of independence and responsibility, but there she was complaining about her state in life. Good God. During our brief exchange, I mentioned my two difficulties with her conjecture. One is that most people don't live to 100, so she's well past the one-fourth mark. The other one is that people are moved by the aging of what they consider to be their generation, and that it hurts to see our grandparents die, as they are our parents' parents, meaning that we're one generation away from seeing our own parents fall away, leaving us first in line at the precipice. So I suggested a "third-life crisis." Generation-ally it works better, but it leaves out any mid-life crisis, of which I may be suffering these days.
Whatever. Quarter-Life Crisis my fanny. Being that age is great. And actually, being middle-aged as I am today ain't too bad either. It's a bit depressing to think that you've lived more than half your life already, but a lot of that life was spent in diapers, awkward moments and experiments gone awry. Honestly, it may be more painful that my parents got ten years older in the last ten years, but time won't budge on that, will it?
Addendum: Seems that I haven't written about Ted From Accounting's last gig. Well, it sucked. Thanks to scheduling and location, hardly anyone came to see us. Fewer people than last year. An appropriate close to the band. We had some great nights, and this one wasn't one of them. I planned on not saying a word to Eileen the entire night, but between the first and second acts, it was impossible not to talk, so we made chatter. Once I was done packing the drums, I realized that I had already said good-bye to John and would see Digger the next day, so I went upstairs to go to bed. Why bother saying good-bye to Eileen and Paulito? Eileen didn't deserve one and Paulito wouldn't care.
You know, the band really brought me down. There was a lot of negative energy there for me. I'm better off now. Still, Ted From Accounting is a good name, and I still want some sort of musical outlet, so maybe I'll form my own band someday. I don't need to describe the possible permutations; they're all listed below.
Ah, enough. I only wrote this for completion. I'm past it now. It feels so good to be past things.
True, I still have several personal matters that are weighing on me, but I'm beginning to find the confidence that'll get me through some of that difficulty. Or at least I'm starting to see the light coming from the other side. It'll take some work to get there, but if I know that the work will pay off, I'll strap on the work boots.
The actuarial exam was two days ago. My studying regiment for this exam was not followed as well as for the prior exam, and this one covered more difficult material. And once again, I had no live person to help me with my studies. Because of my depression and inability to focus, I was not on pace on pass the thing. Three weeks ago, I finally felt the urgency of the moment and went after my goal with full force, even though I didn't think I had a prayer of achieving a passing grade.
It's not crucial that an actuarial candidate pass every exam on the first try; in fact, you're expected to fail at some point. But the fallback to failing the MLC exam on this particular day would be more painful, as the scope of the exam would be changing and the new-fangled exam wouldn't be given again for another six months.
When I was in the exam room in anticipation of the clock to get to 8:30, two guys were sitting behind me, and one discussed how he never passes an exam on the first try... yet he works at Towers Watson, one of the big firms in the area. I should be able to find a job in this market. Sure, it'll be harder because I'm 40 and companies will see me as having 18 years' less time to work for them, so I'll need to remind them that I'm more sure of myself and my desire to stay at one company over others fresh out of school and overly excited about life experiences. Perhaps I can equate it to dating, where a younger man wishes to date many different women, whereas a more mature man wishes to settle down.
And I'm not saying that it'll be "fun" per se, but the task of finding a job in the field doesn't seem overly daunting to me now. While studying the last three weeks, I told myself not to worry about specifics involving my pursuit of a passing grade. Just put in the hours, Dave. That's all you need to do now. Put in the hours of studying. I can take that tack regarding a job pursuit. Put in the hours and it'll work out fine. Almost think of it as grunt work but with a big pay-off. And If I get an interview that doesn't get me a job, it's not one more place that never hire me, it's one more attempt, putting me in a better position to be successful on the next one.
For the record, if I had to guess, I'd say that I didn't pass. But I know I'm at least close to the passing mark, and certainly a lot closer than I anticipated even a week ago.
I only took one practice exam and scored 17 out of 30. That would be just short of passing. I got pretty darn lucky of some of my guesses in that exam. For the real one, I definitely got 12-14 of them right and was able to make some educated guesses from a few of the others. I may need some lucky guesses to get me up to the passing score, which is hopefully 18 but may be 19.
Instead of watching X-Factor with Margie, who needs to watch it for her job, I went to an open mike at the Irish bar in Downers Grove last night. Apart from this small Polish coffee house in Wood Dale and their sparsely-attended open mike - and by sparsely, I mean that no one else would be there most of the time - I have yet to play at an open mike since moving back from Virginia. I would regularly attended one in Old Town Alexandria and both of us would enjoy spending Thursday nights there. Why it's been so hard to find a successful open mike in the suburbs of America's third largest city is a mystery to me.
It went okay, I suppose. I drank two fingers' worth of a single-malt scotch between a beer and a cider and it hit me a little stronger than anticipated. My singing wasn't great, but my slightly-inebriated self didn't think it was that bad. No one walked out in defiance or appeared to snicker or pander, so hey. "Lightning Crashes" wasn't too painful, though my vocal work was sloppy with REM's "It's the End of the World as We Know It." My version over "Overkill" didn't kill but wasn't overdone either. My second song, after David Gray's "A Clean Pair of Eyes," was "Killing Me Softly," and I did it because a 24 year-old girl next to me at the bar asked if I would accompany her on it. I offered Mary and Scott my song list and asked if they wanted to hear anything from it, you see. I was looking for a little inspiration. She had a pretty good voice and struggled to sing it differently than Lauren Hill and the Fugees, but she was also forgiving of the two mistakes I made while playing, confusing the verse chords with the chorus chords. Real sloppy on my end, but then again, I had a generous pour of Macallan in me. The two of them went to Hinsdale South, where they knew a fellow ex-teacher from my last teaching job. She gave me business cards from her new hair salon, saying that she does a great job with mens' haircuts and lets her customers drink beer. Hm. Freshly-cut hair in my can of Miller Lite? Not so appealing this cloud-dissipating morning.
Not that I plan on becoming great friends with them, nice as they are. I'm a whole generation older than them. But this morning, unlike some mornings, I'm glad I'm not in a younger generation. That 4 in front of my age has been giving me issues. But I'm very happy to be settled with Margie, and I can stay that I'm still youthful but have experiences and wisdom that trump anything the Gen Y'ers, or Millenials, or whatever the heck they call themselves, possess.
When I was a little over 30, a 25 year-old at a DC networking event was touting her book, "The Quarter-Life Crisis." It likely sold well, or well enough for a youngin' that hasn't experienced much and is getting her first taste of independence and responsibility, but there she was complaining about her state in life. Good God. During our brief exchange, I mentioned my two difficulties with her conjecture. One is that most people don't live to 100, so she's well past the one-fourth mark. The other one is that people are moved by the aging of what they consider to be their generation, and that it hurts to see our grandparents die, as they are our parents' parents, meaning that we're one generation away from seeing our own parents fall away, leaving us first in line at the precipice. So I suggested a "third-life crisis." Generation-ally it works better, but it leaves out any mid-life crisis, of which I may be suffering these days.
Whatever. Quarter-Life Crisis my fanny. Being that age is great. And actually, being middle-aged as I am today ain't too bad either. It's a bit depressing to think that you've lived more than half your life already, but a lot of that life was spent in diapers, awkward moments and experiments gone awry. Honestly, it may be more painful that my parents got ten years older in the last ten years, but time won't budge on that, will it?
Addendum: Seems that I haven't written about Ted From Accounting's last gig. Well, it sucked. Thanks to scheduling and location, hardly anyone came to see us. Fewer people than last year. An appropriate close to the band. We had some great nights, and this one wasn't one of them. I planned on not saying a word to Eileen the entire night, but between the first and second acts, it was impossible not to talk, so we made chatter. Once I was done packing the drums, I realized that I had already said good-bye to John and would see Digger the next day, so I went upstairs to go to bed. Why bother saying good-bye to Eileen and Paulito? Eileen didn't deserve one and Paulito wouldn't care.
You know, the band really brought me down. There was a lot of negative energy there for me. I'm better off now. Still, Ted From Accounting is a good name, and I still want some sort of musical outlet, so maybe I'll form my own band someday. I don't need to describe the possible permutations; they're all listed below.
Ah, enough. I only wrote this for completion. I'm past it now. It feels so good to be past things.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
The king and the lover
Just taking a break from my studies, which are quite humbling, to discuss a concept given to me by my therapist. It is of the four archetypes of men: the king, the warrior, the magician and the lover. KWML, as it's often known. Carl Jung came up with it.
Each of the four archetypes symbolizes a great man, using his abilities to become a good and important member of society. However, each of them can go array, either becoming too weak or too aggressive, and they can fall into their shadow-types. An overaggressive king is a tyrant, for example. (Man, I wish I could find the desciption that I found on-line two weeks ago. It was fantastic.)
Anyway, I read each of them in order, seeing the occasional part of me in the king, the warrior, and the magician. But when I read the part about the lover, I cried, as I found the person I've always wanted to be. And then I read the other stuff and found that a person is supposed to have all four types within them.
I've wanted to be a great lover and nothing else. I've wanted to be unbalanced. I've wanted to be sad. Tom (my therapist) told me that lovers are always sad. Kings are always happy. Last time, he said that I needed "less love energy and more king energy" as I left.
Not that I know how to correct these things, or if they're correctable at all, but I think my ideal self should not be so. I need balance.
If only I had more time to pursue this now. Oh well. Once I get my exam over with in a week, I'll have the time then.
I will fail this test. There is little doubt in my mind. But I will still do as well as I can at this point. I've actually been fairly happy over the last couple of weeks, since I've had to study so much, I've had less time to get myself depressed.
Each of the four archetypes symbolizes a great man, using his abilities to become a good and important member of society. However, each of them can go array, either becoming too weak or too aggressive, and they can fall into their shadow-types. An overaggressive king is a tyrant, for example. (Man, I wish I could find the desciption that I found on-line two weeks ago. It was fantastic.)
Anyway, I read each of them in order, seeing the occasional part of me in the king, the warrior, and the magician. But when I read the part about the lover, I cried, as I found the person I've always wanted to be. And then I read the other stuff and found that a person is supposed to have all four types within them.
I've wanted to be a great lover and nothing else. I've wanted to be unbalanced. I've wanted to be sad. Tom (my therapist) told me that lovers are always sad. Kings are always happy. Last time, he said that I needed "less love energy and more king energy" as I left.
Not that I know how to correct these things, or if they're correctable at all, but I think my ideal self should not be so. I need balance.
If only I had more time to pursue this now. Oh well. Once I get my exam over with in a week, I'll have the time then.
I will fail this test. There is little doubt in my mind. But I will still do as well as I can at this point. I've actually been fairly happy over the last couple of weeks, since I've had to study so much, I've had less time to get myself depressed.
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